Marquis De La^dace. 205 



stant care, and he succeeded in preserving it without any alte- 

 ration. These cares about himself had only one object, that 

 of reserving all his time and all his strength for the labours of 

 his mind. He lived for the sciences, and the sciences have 

 rendered his memory immortal. 



He had contracted the habit of excessive application to 

 study, so injurious to health, though so necessary to profound 

 inquiries ; but he did not experience from it any inconvenience 

 till during the two last years of his life. 



At the commencement of the disease by which he was cut 

 off, there was observed with alarm a moment of delirium. The 

 sciences still occupied his mind. He spoke with an unwonted 

 ardour of the motions of the planets, and afterwards of a phy- 

 sical experiment, which he said was a capital one ; and he an- 

 nounced to the persons whom he believed to be present, that 

 he would soon discuss these questions in the Academy. His 

 strength gradually failed. His physician * who deserved all, 

 his confidence, both from his superior talents, and the care 

 which friendship alone could have inspired, watched near his 

 bed ; and M. Bouvard, his fellow-labourer and his friend, 

 never left him for a single moment. 



Surrounded with a beloved family, — under the eyes of a wife 

 whose tenderness had assisted in supporting the necessary ills 

 of life, whose amenity and elegance had shown him the value of 

 domestic happiness, he received from his son, the present Mar^ 

 quis de Laplace, the strongest proofs of the warmest affection. 



He evinced his deep gratitude for the marks of interest which 

 the King and the Dauphin had repeatedly exhibited. 



Those who were present at his last moments reminded him 

 of his titles to glory, and of his most brilliant discoveries. He 

 replied, " What we know is little, and what we are ignorant 

 of is immense.*" This was at least the meaning of his last 

 words, which were articulated with difficulty. We have often 

 heard him express the same thought, and almost in the same 

 terms. He grew weaker and weaker, but without suffering pain. 



His last hour had arrived : the powerful genius which had 

 for a long time animated him, separated from its mortal coil, 

 and returned to the heavens. 



* M. Magendie. 



